


Burn Together

by PaulHeymanGirl



Series: And Eternal I Endure [4]
Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-30
Updated: 2014-10-29
Packaged: 2018-02-23 04:52:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2534825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PaulHeymanGirl/pseuds/PaulHeymanGirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Dean and Seth took each other to Hell, everything changed.  Views from all three former members of The Shield as they are forced to face the truth and try to escape the inevitable.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Burn Together

**Author's Note:**

> I knew going into Hell in a Cell I was going to be writing more of this series, but I didn't realize how well it was all going to fit together. Right down to Bray's return at Hell in a Cell.  
> We'll get to that. First off is finally looking at what Roman's carrying around inside.

“Roman...Roman, you have to keep him safe.  Dean.  Listen, I know it’s hard for you to understand complicated directions, but...SHIT, sorry, I can’t keep it together...Roman, you HAVE to keep Dean together.  Keep him safe.  I had this won, I had him beat, I am too smart, too GOOD for this to be happening.  None of this should be happening.  Wyatt can’t have him.  Oh, dammit, I gotta go…”

 

Roman listened to the voicemail for the fifth time before setting his phone down on the table beside his bed.  The first time he’d assumed he couldn’t understand it because of that instinctual rage he felt at the sound of Seth’s voice these days.  But after listening again and again he realized that the message didn’t make sense.  That Seth had been all but babbling into his phone.  About keeping Dean safe.  And he’d been totally sincere.

He could tell.  He could always tell with Seth.

But Seth had been sincere when he’d bragged about turning on The Shield, when he’d taunted Dean about having never been his brother, when he’d held that damn “funeral” for Ambrose on Raw.  That night when Roman had finally intervened.

Something itched at the back of his mind, that question he’d been avoiding for months.  He needed to talk to Dean about it.

Because he should have stopped Seth from ever using those damn cinderblocks.  He’d been backstage, not even watching the match, thinking about his own shit.

_It was more important.  You want big things.  You have to make sacrifices._

He hated that voice.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want big things, of course he did.  He wanted the main events and the titles and everything that went with them.  He just never thought of himself as someone who wanted those things at the expense of someone like Dean.

The voice had started like a cool breeze, a nudge here and there, if he wanted something he should have it, there was no shaming in wanting, right?  Hunting dogs gotta stay hungry, don’t they?

But this wasn’t a hunger.  It was deeper than that.  He could almost think of a word to describe it, but it slipped his mind.

That voice had kept him from going backstage to help Dean when The Authority attacked him.  From equalizing Kane time and time again.  He couldn’t get involved.  He couldn’t get hurt.  He was going to be champion. He was going to…

Before his thoughts could spin out of control, he did the one thing that would stop them.  Balling his hand into a fist, Roman raised his arm in a solo echo of The Shield’s salute.  

He still believed.

 

“I’m not afraid of Bray Wyatt.”  Roman could hear the agitation in Dean’s tone, could already picture him on his end of the phone pacing restlessly.  “Why the hell would I be afraid of Bray Wyatt?”

“Not saying you should be, uce,” Roman said.  He hadn’t said anything about Seth’s rambling voicemail.  It wasn’t worth bringing up.  Besides, if Dean was distracted by Wyatt, that _left Seth wide open for Roman when he returned.  And then they’d see who’s really the living, breathing future of the WWE.  Then they’d_ …

_FOCUS, Reigns_ , he reprimanded himself.  “Far as I know, you’re not afraid of anything, anyway.”

A pause.  “Yeah.  ‘Course not,” Dean said.

Roman raised an eyebrow at the hesitation.  “Some big fear you’re holding out on me?” he asked, keeping his tone joking.  “‘Cause if it’s clowns, I understand.  Creepy fuckers.”

“Fuck clowns,” Dean said.  “I hate ‘em.  Not afraid of ‘em, though.”

“You know you can tell me anything, right?” Roman asked, his voice soft.  “I know there’s been something on your mind for awhile, but I don’t wanna push.”

Dean’s breathing was a little harsh, Roman could imagine the face he was making all too easily.  It was a face he’d been making over and over again in his matches against Seth.

“...he kissed me.”

It took Roman a moment to process the near-whispered confession.  “Wait, who kissed...oh.”  Realization struck.  “Oh.  I mean, I’m not surprised.  The way you two were and...”

“We weren’t,” Dean interrupted.  “It was just one time.  Couple nights after Elimination Chamber.”  He took a few short, quick breaths.  “Rome, that night.  I didn’t leave the match.”

“I know,” Roman reassured him.  “That was months ago anyway and…”

“I SAW shit,” Dean said.  “I had this, fuck, it wasn’t a dream but it wasn’t real, either and I SAW SHIT.  About me and about Seth.  And then I started puking blood.”

“You what?” Roman asked.  “Dammit, Ambrose, and you didn’t tell anyone?”

“Seth knew!” Dean barked.  “He found me puking in the bathroom that night and I wanted to tell him but I couldn’t.  And then he had to fuckin’ go and kiss me and it was fuckin’ perfect.  Like it was what we were supposed to do.”  He let out a humorless chuckle.  “Like bullshit poetry stuff, like...laying in grass in the summer.  At sunset.  Since when do I think that kind of shit?”

Roman could hazard a guess.  “Since you’re in love with him?”

“Don’t.”  Dean’s voice was so soft that it caught Roman off-guard.

“You’re in love with him,” Roman repeated.  “Dean, come on.”

“I took him to Hell and I still can’t burn it away,” Dean said.  “I can’t take it.  It just hurts.  Constantly.  It only feels better when I’m starting to lose control, when I’m just pure rage.  But that only happens around him and it pulls me back from the edge.”

Roman took off of that in and finally asked “Dean.  What are you afraid of?”

“I’m afraid of the same things I was afraid of that night.  That Wyatt took something from me.  That Seth was just trying to comfort me and it didn’t mean anything to him.  That I’m not worth loving, that I’m just anger and rage and...fuck, bloodlust…”

“You’re not,” Roman cut him off, trying to ignore the weird pang he felt over what Dean had just said.  “I know you.  And none of that is true.”

Dean responded with another sad laugh.  “That’s what Seth said.”

“Sometimes Seth was right,” Roman responded.  “In that case he was.  You have to believe that.  And if you can’t, I’ll believe it for you.”

Dean sounded defeated as he said “You’ll have to.  You’re the one who still believes.  Talk to ya later.”

Before Roman could protest, Dean had hung up the phone.  Roman sighed, more confused than he had been before.  If Seth had kissed Dean, he’d meant it.

It was like he had somehow been missing things for months, things going on right in front of him, things going on inside his friends.

_bloodlust_

Inside himself.

_I still believe in the Shield._

He grabbed for his phone, dialed Seth’s number and left a simple message for him.

“You need to tell me what the hell is going on.”

 


End file.
